The Tide of Hope
by bakaindisguise
Summary: Set 3 years after AWE. Elizabeth is depressed and feels unable to continue walking down the path she chose. Then Jack shows up and once again saves her... in a different way this time, though. Multichapter. SPARRABETH!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hello everyone!! I'm so excited to publish my first piece of fan-fiction here! :) I'm a huge Sparrabeth fan, and while up until now I was only an eager reader of all its fanfics, I feel it's high time I started my own. So, here it is, my version of events after AWE... At least the version I would love to happen, of course ;). I plan it to be a three-shot, but it might also remain unfinished, as well as evolve into something bigger... everything's up to my readers (if i have any, that is :D). So, without further ado, on to the story!

**Edited 02-11-10** thanks to my BETA, _royalpinkdogs_!! Please check out her wonderful Sparrabeth fics, too.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own PotC.

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**The Tide of Hope**

_Chapter I_

"Sleep, sweet little William, sleep well… No no no, don't cry, my sweetheart, hush, hush… Mommy's here, alright? Hush baby, no need to cry. Yes, yes… Close your eyes, sleep, dear William. Sleep well, I'm here, I'm by your side. Good boy, now sleep, my dearest."

Elizabeth Turner watched her two-year-old son's breathing even out and his brown eyes flutter shut. She had been trying to lull him into sleep for the past hour or two now, and felt the wave of relief and exhaustion wash over her as he finally did. Young William was becoming more and more wayward and petulant, and Elizabeth wondered what would become of her son when he would start running around, having friends over, throwing parties, sneaking out of the house at nights… She, of course, couldn't be sure that would happen, but Elizabeth had the feeling. Or was it that she wanted her son to be a rabid madcap just like—like whom? Like her, for example. She had always craved for dangers and adventure, so it could be that William would follow in her footsteps. Anyway, the time when William would expose his boisterous nature was still far away. Now he was a cute, though moody little child, still in desperate need of his mother, for her warmth and intense care…

…and he was only two years old, and it was still seven years until he met his father, his namesake, his reason for existence…

_Oh God_. Hardly a third of that awful, awful and awfully long decade had passed… and those past three years already seemed like a century to her. A century of nothing more but solitude, the hard life of a single mother and the unbearable routine of a maid in an inn. The inn wasn't bad, though. After Elizabeth had abandoned her privileged life as a wealthy governor's daughter and respected lady in Port Royal, fleeing the city with nothing more than her infant son in her arms, she had really feared for the worst. But she had been lucky enough to come across a quiet fishing village, where she had shortly found some humble accommodation and work at one snug inn. Only decent and quite prosperous folks gathered there, so she hadn't encountered any big problems ever since her arrival.

_No problems, hence no adventures either_… Elizabeth scolded herself often for such thoughts. She was lonely and she had a child to take care of, so the absence of any excitement was only for the better.

Still, the solitude could at least have not been so tedious and monotonous. She was lonely, but was she bound to be miserable as well? Was constantly keeping her desires at bay as inevitable as her husband's curse?

"Yes," the bitter word escaped Elizabeth's lips. "Because it's my curse as well… I made a choice, I made a promise, and I should keep it…"

_Should_. Since when had _will_ evolved into _should_? Elizabeth couldn't put her finger on it. Yet, when she thought about it, she had never seemed very enthusiastic… more like obligated. Wouldn't her pledge develop into _could_, _might_, _might be able_ and finally… _won't_?

Deciding not to answer that particular question, she heaved a long sigh and went on to do some dusting and cleaning around the house while sun was still to remain in the dome for an hour or so.

Unfortunately, it was already out of her control. Various thoughts and visions were flooding her mind despite her resolution. Really, what was left of the once tomboyish and lively lass? Where had her lust for danger and adventure gone? Was her zest for life lost forever?

_No, no, no_. Everything was still there, somewhere deep within her. She just couldn't bring herself to expose all those things and feelings either to herself other people around her. It would have been suffocating, insufferable, impossible to live a whole decade of painful isolation if she still had a bit of healthy enthusiasm. Her exile would have been pointless. "Now," she whispered inwardly, "now I may conceal my feelings, my desires… But seven years will go by and I will meet Will again. _We_ will meet Will again and our family will be complete and happy…" a ghost of a smile appeared on her tired face, but was quickly replaced by a sore sarcastic one as she amended: "…for one day."

Elizabeth was losing hope. Simple as that – losing hope. Not the hope that her husband would return, of course, because he _would_. But the belief in happiness, in comfort, even in love… all that was fading away, flowing from her in an unstoppable current away and away.... And she wasn't able to flow along with it, to flow where it carried. To flow anywhere, everywhere, to the ends of the world… Because she was stuck in her little house and oppressive routine, and no, she actually could move from her house, flee this place and find another one, or wander all around the Caribbean without a destination. But she was held captive in a prison she couldn't escape and no one could let her out, because there were no locks and no person who had imprisoned her in the first place… She had done it herself, by marrying Will, and her conscience was the sole guard of the prison and it wouldn't let her out…

Realization as to what she had thought struck Elizabeth and she wanted to correct herself: how ridiculous, she had actually said conscience instead of love! She loved Will, didn't she?

She did, she did, she did, for God's sake…

But that love was bad, cursed, predestined to be a burden, because one day just couldn't make up for ten years, regardless how miraculous that day might happen to be. The revelation seemed to be more and more clear each day, and each morning Elizabeth woke up feeling more and more dry and lifeless. It was as if the tide of her hope and happiness continuously ebbed and ebbed, salty waves of joy never reaching her again. And Elizabeth couldn't bear to look at the sea anymore, she couldn't bring herself to smell that intoxicating scent of freedom and carelessness that it brought…

"It's the sea… It's the sea that's a constant reminder of Will, of what I've lost, of what I could've had--"

"Speaking with ourselves, are we?"

Elizabeth dropped the rag she'd been holding and turned around, disturbed. It was Marie, the elderly woman Elizabeth had come to know quite well these past several years. She had the habit of barging in other people's houses without a warning, though.

"Marie, I—I didn't know you were coming tonight."

"Why, my bad, dear. It should've told you today at the inn, but I just thought you wouldn't mind."

Elizabeth frowned inside. No no, of course she wouldn't mind. Her house now just wasn't her private area, was it?

"Sure," she forced a smile. And suddenly she felt tired, so immensely exhausted that she didn't really realize what she was saying until the murmured words escaped her mouth: "Would you look after William for a while, Marie? I really need to get out." And with that, not waiting for the older woman to reply, Elizabeth strode towards the door, clumsily grabbed her cape and left.

Realizing what she had just done, she stumbled a little, but didn't stop walking. Unconsciously choosing the dusty road which led towards the ocean, she paced, enjoying the feeling of mild evening breeze tangling her hair and the sight of slightly reddening sky before her. The seaside was still a good distance off, but Elizabeth could already smell that salty and, strangely, at the same time sweet odour.

God, how she would miss it. How she would miss that distant sound of water washing up on the shore she heard when she opened her window shutters every morning. But there was no helping it; the decision had to be made at once. What was she doing here, anyway? Here, in this nice neat fishing village? Had she really thought it would be easier to spend a decade at such a place? When fleeing Port Royal, Elizabeth hadn't the slightest idea as to where she should move. Her feet and her unconscious had carried her along the shore, though. Somehow, the sea was the only thing in the world that was able to calm Elizabeth, to soothe her sorrow, either because Will was somewhere there, or because of all the adventures Elizabeth had had, all her pirate experiences. All in all, her life and her fate were inextricably linked with open waters. The crystal blue Caribbean sea had been her solace and her source of strength these first days of traveling. In complete contrast, one heavy chest and muffled thumping sound that came together with it had constantly distressed Elizabeth. Had, and still did. But now not only the chest, but also her once comforting mother – sea – was too much for her to bear. And thus, Elizabeth would move away from it, further into the land, because she knew for sure that one day she just wouldn't be able to stop herself and give in the irresistible longing for risks and adventures. She would sail away, find Jack, or find Jack and then sail away—

_Wait_. Find Jack? Why would she want to find Jack?

"Because he's got the ship, obviously." Elizabeth answered her own question, faintly irritated.

Yes, that was it. She would need Jack Sparrow and his beautifulPearl if she wanted to sail away. It wasn't that poor Elizabeth Turner had her own boat… Or any other acquaintances that did, for that matter.

But there was no need to ponder on the idea, as she just _wouldn't_ find Jack, _wouldn't _sail anywhere. More than that – she simply couldn't. Couldn't put her little son in any sort of danger, and dangers were as often as blinking while being in the sea… while being with Jack Sparrow.

"Jack… I just wonder… How are you?" Elizabeth whispered inwardly, not being able to stop a torrent of thoughts and visions that flooded her mind. Visions that all contained one particular pirate captain. "How are you, where are you?.. Are you still the same, Jack? Do you still swagger when you walk, do you still chatter in your mock-reasonable manner?" She chuckled lightly, remembering Captain Jack Sparrow's unique antics. "Do you still pout when something doesn't go the way you want it to go? Do you still wiggle your fingers in the air when you're not decided on something, but keep your hands strong and confident on the helm of your lovely Pearl?.."

Elizabeth sighed at the memory of Jack Sparrow – Captain Jack Sparrow, that is – standing high on the quarterdeck, one hand put leisurely yet possessively on the wheel, other on his hip, body posture relaxed; eyes piercing through the horizon, as if seeing all the treasures of the world, even before anyone else knew of their existence…

Then the vision blurred and another one, more flamboyant and more intense entered her mind. Those dark, almost black eyes now bored into Elizabeth's, hundreds of emotions flashing in the abyss of Jack's pupils, yet some of the emotions were stronger, more apparent than others… What were they? Regret or joy? Relief or admiration? Desire or… affection?..

_"Keep telling yourself that, darlin'."_

"You too, Jack Sparrow. You too keep telling yourself it could have never worked out between us." Elizabeth wanted to spit for some inexplicable reason, but instead she kicked some small stone that was lying peacefully on the road; and immediately regretted her decision as her toes now were stinging with pain – apparently, the stone wasn't as small as she had presumed.

_It could have never worked out between us._

"Why? Could it have? Oh, Elizabeth, you're being ridiculously unreasonable," she told herself. "He rejected your kiss, even if it was only meant to be a friendly, a good-bye one… Yet he turned me down. Oh, you bloody unfriendly never-doing-what-I-want kind of a -- pirate!"

Elizabeth was irritated, yet it didn't slip her notice she was also amused. Sneakingly, extremely entertained. Only by thinking about and cursing Jack Sparrow. She allowed a sly smirk to appear on her face at that, and walked the rest of the way quite absent-minded, forgetting even the reason she was going to the shore – to say good-bye to the sea…

* * *

When Elizabeth reached the seaside, the sky had already acquired a blazing shade of red as the sun was just settling down on the water. She stood at one dune savouring the beautiful landscape and enjoying the feeling of warm evening sun rays caressing her skin. Beautiful, immersing and murderous was the sea – what a perfectly alluring combination… Maybe that's why it was the one and only love of some men.

The grim mood overwhelming her once again, Elizabeth lowered her gaze from the horizon and eyed her surroundings. It was so peaceful an evening with littoral plants swaying to a silent melody of summer breeze and sea-sand glowing lightly, reflecting the last rays of sun… But suddenly she spotted some disturbance in the perfect scenery. There was a man lying on the wet sand, unmoving; slender waves bathing his legs. Frightened at first that the man might be dead, Elizabeth didn't hesitate a moment later and launched forward. Before long, she reached the intimidating subject. It was a grizzled aged man, short but chunky. His hair was damp, though it obviously tended to tangle. The man also had some odd feature on the face – long and grey side-whiskers, which visibly stuck, despite the fact the man had his face down in the sand. A thought that those whiskers seemed familiar crossed Elizabeth's mind, but she hadn't time to ponder on it as the man suddenly let out a muffled groan.

"My God, he is alive…"

"Aye, I am." He responded to Elizabeth's statement, his voice strangely coherent regardless of the position his face was in. "Now, lass, if ye'd be so kind as to roll ol' Gibbs over…"

_Gibbs_?? Elizabeth's heart almost jumped out of her chest at the name. _This can't be_...

"For God's sake, lass!" he bellowed, shaking the woman out of her reverie. Elizabeth bent, her hands trembling, and forced Gibbs' body to roll over. Once on his back, Gibbs heaved a long sigh indicating he had eased a little. His face was tarred and awry with pain, and it didn't take long for Elizabeth to notice the ripped fabric of his shirt and a huge bruise behind it. _Probably a rib or two broken_… _He would be needing a medical treatment_, she thought, and returned her gaze to man's face only to find Gibbs' eyes staring at her, wide with astonishment.

"Miss -- Miss Elizabeth..?"

"Mister Gibbs," she acknowledged. A few moments of silence passed before either of them thought what to make of the situation, but then Elizabeth inquired:

"Does it hurt badly?"

Gibbs inhaled and readied himself to speak, but then suddenly something changed in his countenance as he seemed to remember some fact. Mouthing something like "yes", he shortly murmured:

"Jack -- find Jack. He's in need of serious medical attention--"

"What?! Jack's here?" Elizabeth's voice screeched, but drowned in an awful pounding of her heart, a pounding that was so strong it could have torn her body apart… But it was irrelevant, trivial; for Jack was somewhere here. He was here and – _wait, did Gibbs say he was in need of medical attention_??

"Aye. Somewhere around… Foolish. He will die if no one finds him now--"

"WHAT?" the deranged sound of her own voice frightened Elizabeth, but not nearly as much as the meaning of Gibbs' words did.

"Go find 'im. And a doctor. Quickly."

She didn't need to be told twice. Springing to her feet, the woman turned around and was already to run, when she remembered something.

"But… What about you?"

"I'll be alright. Quite," Gibbs forced a strained smile, and it was all Elizabeth needed to assure herself. Once again turning around, she dashed northward, as in the south was a little harbour and she didn't make out anyone there…

While racing down the shore, hundreds of thoughts whirled in Elizabeth's mind, but there was no time to contemplate any of them. She had to run, she had to find Jack, Jack Sparrow, _Jack Sparrow is here, oh God, he's here, he's hurt, but he's here, I will see him again_... Not really knowing she was more apprehensive for his well-being or eager to just meet him, Elizabeth ran, as she would run for her life, maybe even faster, because she was running for him, for his life… Until suddenly she saw it.

Familiar swagger.

Familiar ripped clothes.

Familiar washed-out red bandana and a shock of wildly tangled dreadlocks.

_Jack Sparrow_, no doubt.

Elizabeth just wasn't able to recall how she had actually got to him, a blurred memory of a few trips while dashing not being at all explicit. But when she was just several metres away from the swinging figure, though, and facing his back, the vision became all too vivid as he suddenly stopped swaggering and began turning around. Holding her breath, Elizabeth waited; and the wait seemed interminable, because the process of him turning around was just taking forever. Or was it only her imagination, her anticipation that made it seem so?.. Anyway, as she finally saw Jack, his face, that… face… Handsome as it was, it was now awry with pain and exhaustion, cold sweat running down his forehead, brows, eyelashes, jaws, lips, chin, neck…

"Lizzie, me angel… Knew yer somewhere around."

And with that, he passed out.

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**A/N: **Thank you for reading! If anyone would like me to continue, please review!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you so much for the reviews, alerts and (it was mostly surprising) favorites!!

Whew. This chapter is evil!! It took me much longer to write than I'd thought. But I'm happy I finally managed to complete it, and with the background finally set, the next instalment will include much more Sparrabethness!! :D

**Edited 02-11-10 **thanks to my BETA, _royalpinkdogs_. :)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own PotC.

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**The Tide of Hope**

_Chapter II_

Elizabeth slumped in the armchair, too exhausted to reach her bed. Oh, that's right – her bed was occupied, so she had spent the last five nights on a pallet in the kitchen of her small house. Thank heavens, Mister Gibbs had some acquaintances in the town to put him up. If not for them, Elizabeth would now have had an aching back or even bedsores developed as she would have slept nowhere else but on the hard floor of the kitchen. It wasn't as if Elizabeth had been hospitable to an unreasonable extent, she simply was the only one not having either two fractured ribs or been bitten by some bloody venomous animal, which resulted in a five-day fever and occasional deliriums. Sinking further into the soft material of an armchair, she drew more groan than breath and felt the events of last Sunday rush into her mind, feeling highly relieved they were now over.

* * *

_Seeing Jack collapse on the wet sand made Elizabeth's legs so weak that she shortly found herself stumbling on her knees, too. Dusk was already covering the island, but her body felt inexplicably hot and burning, as if the sun had still been high in the__ dome, at the very zenith; no, as if it had been here, before her... So close Elizabeth could touch it by simply extending her hand. But what was before her, wasn't sun. It was... he was... _Oh God.

_It was Jack, but not the same sneering and lecherous Jack always on the go; this Jack was ill, unmoving; hopefully, simply blacked out. _Simply. _The frivolity of her own word scared her. Fainting wasn't the thing people did out of the blue; if it had happened, it must have boded anything but well. Feeling inexplicably slack, Elizabeth nonetheless reached out and touched the man's shoulder, shaking it slightly, but received no response._

"_Jack… Jack." A hoarse, pleading call escaped her dry mouth. "Jack, for God's sake…Open your eyes. Jack…" trembling with dread and exhaustion, she was now unconsciously reaching for his neck, embracing it. Elizabeth knew he had only passed out, but sensing a weak thumping of pulse consoled her, if only for a little. He was also soaking wet, but the substance that had covered her palms while caressing Jack's face and neck was by no means sea water. Sticky, cold sweat was still exuding through his pores, flowing down the feverish skin. Elizabeth felt the urge to wipe it all away, and she tried, stroking his cheeks, his brows, the side of his face, traveling her hands down his jawline and neck…But her attempts were in vain, as his body just seemed to be willing to get rid of all the water it contained._

He will die if no one finds him now.

_That horrifying phrase rang in Elizabeth's mind, as she recalled who and why had told these words. Gibbs. Gibbs was totally serious, she had seen in it his sparkling eyes and grave tone of voice._

"_I found him. But—but what now?" frantic, she didn't really know she if was only thinking or saying those words out loud. "Jack, what has happened? What am I supposed to do?.."_

_But Jack was lying as still as before, only shallow and hot breathing indicating his vitality. Vitality? Maybe illness? Maybe both…_

_It seemed as if not only Jack, but also Elizabeth had to come to their senses. While he was utterly unconscious, the woman was more than sensible to make a decision as to what she should do and where she should go; whether she should go anywhere at all. Because she couldn't just leave Jack like that… Could she? Had she any alternative options?_

He will die if no one finds him now.

_No, there was nothing she was able of doing, after all. Jack had to be inspected by someone with at least a bit of medical knowledge…And Elizabeth hardly had any, despite the fact that she wasn't a noblewoman of Port Royal anymore, and had to take care of her little son herself. Well, not entirely herself, as there was Doctor Smith in the town—_

"_Doctor Smith!" she exclaimed and momentarily sprang to her feet. How could she have forgotten this benevolent man? He would always come to William's aid when needed, and he would certainly help her now. Casting one worried, but hopeful look at Jack, as if calculating the span of time she would need to fetch Doctor Smith, taking into account her inanition and physical abilities, she came to a decision and dashed southward._

_It was odd how Elizabeth found so much stamina within her now, as just a moment ago she had thought she wouldn't be able to stand up anymore. Or, when she had initially run to find Jack, fear had seized her, but not her own inner strength. Now, however, she almost found herself flying a few inches above the ground, her toes not touching the cooling evening sand beneath her. She, of course, was still immensely apprehensive, yet she believed – she wanted to believe, at least – that she would find the doctor and before long come back to Jack, and the doctor would treat him, and then… Then they would share a long, detailed and honest conversation… About what? About anything, everything; his explication for all this current madness being in the first place, of course._

_Elizabeth didn't really stop at Gibbs, and breathlessly uttering something about fetching a doctor, ran past his figure._

_Within a few minutes, she had reached the port outside of the town, even though her knees were weak and aching. Nevertheless, she set aside her extreme physical discomfort and went on, though slowing down a little. The harbour was desolate, twilight making it even look godforsaken. Except it wasn't – Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief as she spotted two men at the front door of some dockside shop, laughing and discussing something. She recognized one of them, the taller sunburnt one. He had the name of Oliver and was a local fisherman; fairly pleasant person to be acquainted with, as well as rather aggravating suitor. Bearing that in mind, Elizabeth walked to the door of the shop and greeted the men, facing their astonishment. In addition to that emotion, she also identified a ghost of gladness in the eyes of Oliver, and it unnerved her; the predicament she was in was by no means suitable for the man's irritating flirting. So, not waiting for his words of admiration to start flowing, Elizabeth headed him off and said:_

"_Gentlemen, I ask of you. Please go down the seaside and you will find an ill man there. Well, two ill men… They're my dear acquaintances and they've been stranded, shipwreck I guess…Please go and take the second one, he's terribly ill, I'm afraid he's been poisoned… He— I—" Elizabeth found her voice becoming more and more unsure, a forming lump in her throat threatening to falter it completely._

"_Mistress Turner," Oliver slowly spoke out, an overly gentle, yet leery tone of voice. "You do not look very well." He paused, inhaling some air and eyeing her intently. "Are you sure of what you're implying? Where's young William?"_

_Elizabeth__ blinked, baffled. Why didn't they start towards Jack already? What had William to do with all this? Why was Oliver staring at her with such an utter dismay and sympathy?_

Oh. They didn't believe her.

_During the past three years in this fishing village, she had successfully formed an image of one withdrawn, hardworking widow, putting all her mind to her two-year-old son and rather unwilling to establish bonds with the people round about. And now, the same woman appeared, all disheveled, frantic and breathless, still wearing her home scuffs and unawares announced that some mysterious friends of hers had been stranded; while it was already afterglow dark, and she had to be at home, looking after her child…Not really someone to be completely trusted, was she?_

_But Jack, Jack would…would... if they didn't help him, he would…--_

"_Please, Oliver!!! I'm serious, can't you see?!" Elizabeth's voice was loud and cracking, exposing all the desperation she felt. No, no, no, she couldn't lose Jack again, not after those three tenebrous years of solitude, not since he was, most likely, her only friend left alive... "Please, go and take him… I'll fetch Doctor Smith and catch up with you. Go now. Go!"_

_Both men exchanged agitated looks, but neither dared contradict the woman, as she indeed sounded genuinely desperate._

_Drawing a deep breath, Oliver stepped forward, nodded, mouthing some trivial words of assurance, and walked past Elizabeth at a rushed pace. The other man also nodded and followed him, groaning inaudibly.._

"_Hu-- hurry up!" she stammered out to their backs, feeling somewhat awkward for burdening the men, but at the same time quite afraid they didn't take the situation as seriously as it should have been taken. She saw them picking up the pace so that they were now almost running, and as that assured her, turned around and bolted towards Doctor Smith's house. Fortunately, he lived just a couple of minutes away. Elizabeth, however, managed to reach his threshold in less than one. Her heart was awfully pounding, and inside her ears, too; so she didn't really make out the fact that she was practically beating and kicking the door until a terrified face of a doctor appeared behind it._

"_Mistress Turner, what is the meaning of this?"_

_Elizabeth did her best explaining the situation this time, for she couldn't afford any more time wasted. There was one extremely ill-looking man lying on the shore, passed out; perspiring to excess; blood-poisoning, probably. She knew him, and she could provide a bed for him, cover the treatment financially. Doctor Smith just had to come along with her…_

_And he didn't give an opportunity for Elizabeth to doubt his benevolence as, by the time she had finished speaking, he was already ready to go._

_Throughout their travel, Elizabeth constantly prompted them both to move faster, and so it didn't take very long for the pair to reach their destination. Which was, at the moment, the very place that she had initially found Gibbs at, as Oliver, his friend and – Jack – were already there. Apparently, it was those two men who had carried him there, as he seemed to be still unconscious, but how on Earth had they managed to bring him all this distance so soon? Had Elizabeth taken a look at Oliver's face, she would have seen a proud countenance there, but she didn't; Jack wouldn't let her take her eyes off him. Involuntarily, unwillingly, of course, because he hadn't even regained his consciousness yet. But she just stood there, drinking in his image...—_

"_The state he's in doesn't suggest anything well." She didn't even notice when Doctor Smith had got to Jack and squatted, inspecting his pulse and body temperature. "He's critically feverish and sweating--"_

"_I figured that much." Elizabeth caught herself impudently interrupting, but it was already too late, as those bitter words had already flown out of her mouth. Her cheeks reddening, she shortly amended: "I mean… What is it? What's wrong with him?"_

"_It seems you were right, Missis Turner. It looks like a blood poisoning. I just am not able to know what caused it."_

_At that, a different voice appeared:_

"A sea shell_." Groaning with pain, Gibbs was trying to sit up, but all in vain, and he momentarily slumped down on his back. "Bloody sea shell, shaped like a cone. Foolish Cap'n wouldn't believe it was dangerous and strode away. And in me condition, I couldn't follow 'im… Had not Miss Elizabeth turned up--"_

"_Mister Gibbs!" the woman cried, wide-eyed. "Mister Gibbs – Doctor!" she turned to face Doctor Smith, who had already pricked his ears up at her voice. "Doctor. Is it, by any chance… deadly?"_

_But Elizabeth could hardly make out her own words. Her heart was unruledly racing; almost succeeding in breaking through her ribs and jumping out.. She could even imagine it falling at her feet, all gorey and blood-soaked, its weak thumping ringing in her ears._I would have to obtain a chest and keep it there, _she thought, sneering inwardly. But then, suddenly, the meaning of the sentence crashed down on her with all the bitterness and grief that it carried and Elizabeth swayed, feeling so bad and guilty for daring even think that._

"_It is, by all chances, deadly," doctor's voice shook Elizabeth out of her grim reverie, and she cast him a questioning look. And then she remembered her own inquiry—"but an antidote can be applied" he elaborated. "Our apothecary should still have some of this."_

"_That's great news!!" she announced, finally allowing some optimism to colour the tone of her voice. "Now. You, Doctor Smith, go and get that medicine, the men will carry Jack – that's his name," she pointed towards the lying figure, "– to my place, and I will help Mister Gibbs walk. Let us all meet at my house."_

_And with that, Elizabeth marched to help Gibbs get up, a sly smirk appearing on her face. God, how she had missed it… Missed being bossy, missed ordering others around… Missed being a Pirate King. That she still was, of course, but leading a miserable widow's life hardly counted as doing her royal duties, didn't it?_

"_I… I guess that's a possible scenario." Doctor Smith stammered out, exchanging incredulous looks with both men. Strange lady Elizabeth Turner was, but he was almost certain her eccentricity didn't bode anything ill. She was by no means demented… The woman just seemed to be restraining herself for some personal reason, hiding something from everybody… And she definitely was out of place in this town. The majority of folks liked her, nevertheless._

_Elizabeth and Gibbs hobbled up to road to her house. The older man could almost walk by himself, as it soon developed, but Elizabeth still insisted on him holding to her, his right arm slung over her shoulder. He occasionally let out some pained groans, which didn't slip Elizabeth's notice._

"_Should we stop and rest?" she asked, tilting her head to the left._

"_Nay. I'll be just fine, lass." He drew a sharp breath, coughed, and continued: "An' I could be perfectly capable of walkin' by me own, if--"_

"_Shh!Do not talk," she squashed, casting Gibbs a stern look.. "I can see it pains you."_

"_Not…-- really." He allowed a trace of smile. "I reckon ye'll want to know what happened, anyway… So the sooner, the better, huh?"_

"_If anything comes to hold my interest__, I will kick Jack out of his bloody coma and have him tell everything to me." She murmured under her breath, gazing fiercely at her feet. Elizabeth was deeply annoyed. Really, what had Jack been thinking, letting some shoddy sea shell sting him? He also must have known she would come to his aid, hadn't he? Of course he had, bloody Jack Sparrow always tended to know things concerning her even before she did. And what now? Now, a poor single mother would have to put up and attend to two ungrateful pirates. Where was their beloved ship, anyway?_

"_But where is the Black Pearl?" she found herself spilling out._

_Gibbs immediately acquired a gloomy countenance and was silent for a while, contemplating something._

"_Commandeered. Maliciously stolen… Bloody__ mutineer."_

"_Barbossa's work, isn't it." Elizabeth cut him off, not really asking; rather stating a fact. She already knew the answer. Well, not knew, but had a feeling, a suspicion… And her flair, accomplished during all her pirate ventures, very rarely let her down._

_At the question, Gibbs peeked at the woman. How did she know?_

_Elizabeth__ caught his mistrusted look. "What? Am I right?"_

"_Ye are." A tone of shame and defeat was obvious in his hoarse voice. "Shortly after we left you at the island with Will," the man once again cast her a sideways glance, checking whether his reckless words didn't come out as an irritant. Elizabeth's face strained at the name, and her eyes darted to the dusty road beneath their feet, but she shortly tilted her head up, encouraging him to continue. "Shortly after that…We sailed to Tortuga. Ye know, needed to mark the demise o' the two wretches… How were they called… Ah, Becktett an' bloody Jones. So… Ye know, we were partying fer some time…An' one day, when Cap'n and I went to the dock…" he inhaled a shallow breath, winced and, lowering his hoarse voice, mouthed: "She was gone."_

_Elizabeth__ squinted into the distance. "Why on Earth did you even keep Barbossa onboard? After all he'd done in the past?"_

"_Well… Cap'n Jack had some surprise prepared for 'im, once we finished celebrating…" Gibbs chuckled, but when a sequential searing pain stung his chest, realized it wasn't very smart idea to do so._

"_Well what a wretch of a captain," spat Elizabeth. "Always putting rum before anything else."_

"_That's Cap'n Jack for you…"_

"_Right," she whispered. Gibbs wasn't looking too well and talking obviously required much effort from him… But Elizabeth just couldn't restrain her curiosity. "I suppose you haven't succeeded in your quest for the Pearl so far?"_

"_Miss Elizabeth, still as perceptive as before." He said with a smirk._

Mistress. I'm mistress now…_Elizabeth was already parting her lips to correct Gibbs, but fell silent. Her marital status now should have been understood, and it wasn't the right time for her meticulous corrections. Meticulous? Truth to be told, It wasn't meticulous, it was, on the contrary, essential in her life…But she nevertheless stuck to her opinion she ought to not have burdened Gibbs with anything of the sort now._

"_Cap'n was furious." His statement averted her thoughts back to their topic. "So, at first he sailed away… alone… on a boat."_

_Little by little, the first mate of the Black Pearl narrated his and Jack's last three years, outlining the main events. While listening to him, Elizabeth could already draw a conclusion she wasn't the only one having had an awful period of time… And for some reason, the fact comforted her. When she and Jack had parted their ways, Elizabeth knew she was sentencing herself to an exile, a hardly bearable solitude; while Jack had been sure to continue sailing, continue running ventures and risks… Continue living the life she had always craved for. And with each passing day, with every month going by, the two of them would grow further and further apart… Or, more accurately, Elizabeth would fall abysmally behind, and Jack would recede, inexorably sail away from her, from her lonely, petrified figure…The decade had to be endured, and she should have come to terms with it. Yet she simply wasn't able, knowing that somewhere in the Caribbean, somewhere in the world, was the ship she actually could have been onboard. Knew there were adventures she could have experienced; the person she could have-- could have -- _could have… been with. _And, much to her frigid fright, it wasn't Will she had in mind._

_An unwished smirk forced Elizabeth's lip corners to curl up, as she couldn't fight it anymore. She couldn't deny the fact she was extremely joyful to know that Jack was here, finally; eventually. And he was to remain, at least until he got over the illness… He would stay in her little house, sleep in her bed and receive her care, building up his strength, his health…Elizabeth didn't allow the thought proposing all its temporariness enter her mind, and for the rest of the road home she felt just… happy._

_

* * *

_

The woman closed her eyes and rubbed her temples in order to relieve the now constant headache, but to no avail, as suddenly a child's wailing echoed throughout the house and made her instantly spring to her feet and rush towards its direction.

"William, dearie, what's wrong?" She uttered, leaning over the boy's crib and casting him a worried look. "I've just laid you down, and here you're awake again. Is it too cold, too windy? Should I close the window?" Elizabeth inquired, ever so lightly swaying the crib. William seemed to calm down a little at that, but still eyed her somehow reproachfully. "Now now, don't you want to sleep anymore?"

William shook his head and wriggled under his blue cover, seeming uncomfortable.

"Ol' man" he pronounced, irritatedly.

"Old man?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Where had that sweet _mommy _gone? She chuckled and reached out, tickling her little boy's tummy. It looked as if she wouldn't need to wait for very long until the riotousness of William exposed itself, after all. Here he was already replacing those typical childish diminutives with some… not so pleasant appellations, to be honest. But what the heck, he was just too vastly cute to be angry at. Elizabeth would shorten the span of time Gibbs spent with her child, though. Bloody old man seemed to be a bad influence upon William_…_Bloody _old man_!!

"William. Do you want to see the old man?" she asked, cautiously.

"Aye", came a nonchalant reply.

A vein popped up on Elizabeth's temple. Pirate slang, already?! She had been able to teach her son only a few words during the last half a year, yet Gibbs had somehow managed not only to do that, but also make William use them on right occasions in mere five afternoons of his peculiar baby-sitting.

"So, no sleep again, huh?" she let out a sigh, defeated. "He should come soon, then." Elizabeth adjusted the bed cover over William, bent to kiss his forehead and turned to leave the kitchen and take a look out her hall window, to see if there was Gibbs' approaching figure somewhere in the distance.

Walking down the small laden hall she, however, stopped at her bedroom's door, her hand lingering over the door knob. The woman hadn't checked on Jack for some time now, but she also noticed she was somehow trying to evade those check-ups. Was it because he was gradually improving and didn't require as much attendance as before? It must have been… Elizabeth could see that, even though Jack hadn't woken up fully, yet.

She lowered her hand on the knob and deliberately pushed the door open, letting a beam of dim light spread over the room. Jack was lying among the puffy covers and pillows, his chest rising and dropping slightly, in steady accordance to sleep breathing. At least he didn't run so high a fever as before… Walking to the side of the bed and sitting on the edge of it, Elizabeth tilted her head to have a more decent look at the sleeping man beside her. He didn't perspire as much, too. Maybe his deliriums would also end, finally…

"Lizzie…"

A hoarse call was hardly audible, yet Elizabeth could almost feel the atmosphere around her suddenly turn much hotter. No, apparently the fever hadn't ended. And so hadn't his constant, feverish repeats of her name; which one was it now? Twentieth? Thirtieth? Hundredth?..

"Lizzie…"

Thirty-fourth.

Who would she delude? She was hearing every one of them, counting them… Shamelessly, yet willingly counting each pronouncement of her name that flew out of between Jack's hot, chapped, parted lips… A small smile appeared on Elizabeth's face. With the number of thirty-four,_Lizzie _had finally got in advance of the _Pearl_, which had thirty-three repeats at the time, and oh so greatly outnumbered _bloody Barbossa_ with poor, ignominious six. She leaned on the headboard of the bed, shoving one of the pillows between her bony lower back and hard cold steel frame, and let her eyes flutter shut.

_What would Jack say when he woke up? Would he be aware of the time he was so awfully bed-ridden? Would he_, she chuckled, _remember his vehement deliriums?_

Suddenly, one mad, crazy, queer thought crossed Elizabeth's mind. She had just imagined… _Oh God._She couldn't… yet… it was shameful just to ponder on that… No, really, it was… it would be utterly ridiculous!.. Jack's first words after coma being… _Is it heaven? Are ye an angel? _Elizabeth couldn't stifle a laugh. Now where had that come from?! Stupid romance books must have made a bigger influence on her young vulnerable teenage self. Still with her eyelids down, she elaborated the ludicrous idea. Now really, if he actually said that, she would—

"Lizzie!…"

A delirious call once again interrupted her thoughts, but she didn't quite comprehend the fact that it was one different, more intense pronouncement this time. And hence, not fully disengaged from her reverie, Elizabeth uttered:

"No, silly Jack. It isn't heaven and I'm no angel."

Realizing she had actually said the sentence out loud, Elizabeth immediately acquired a hot flush on her cheeks and snapped her eyes open… Only to find a pair of dark orbs eyeing her with utter astonishment.

Jack. Jack was awake.

Had he heard her? Had he??

And… why the bloody heck was he forming that irritatingly slanted smirk?!

"I don't recall saying that, darlin'."

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**A/N: **Thank you for reading! Reviews and also critics appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** It's an update! And I'm really sorry for the long delay... I wanted to finish this story before I enter university (in a week), and it was supposed to be a three-shot... I changed my mind. It will be longer and since I'm back to the POTC fandom, sooner updates can be expected ;) Please read and review!

* * *

_**Chapter III**_

"_I don't recall saying that, darlin'."_

These words, these very first words that Jack pronounced after regaining his consciousness, still rang in Elizabeth's mind. Well, technically, they were not the _very first _ones, as that damn call of her name happened to be uttered before them, but still… It was just insufferable. Elizabeth hadn't ever had any intention of letting Jack win their occasional banters, yet she had just exposed her most private – and most stupid, for that matter, - thoughts to him. Not to mention the horrible flush that had now finished painting her cheeks in almost crimson colour.

"O-Of course you don't recall it!" the woman sprang to her feet, crossing her arms over her chest and forming her typical you're-wrong-but-you're-too-stupid-to-realise-it pout. "You were blacked out for over five days now and– and you were constantly spouting out various kinds of nonsense in your deliriums," at which Jack raised an amused eyebrow, which irritated her even more, "- and it's a real miracle that I've happened to memorise this one, because believe me, Jack Sparrow," she extended her hand, cutting Jack off of interjecting a 'Captain', "there were even worse cases, which I really didn't pay attention to, because, well, I put all my efforts into attending to your dirty sick pirate self!" the woman breathed some air in to finish her tirade, "And now, instead of nagging at my words you should thank me oh so very much, because if not for me-"

"Lizzie, dear," started Jack, hoarsely. "As much as I be enjoying our lovely banters an' I really do not doubt yer nursing abilities," he coughed and continued in a slow manner, "and I by no means suggest that ye could, in fact, force water down me poor throat, I just cannot help admitting my unstinted thirst, so if ye be as kind…"

"Oh." Doctor Smith had told Elizabeth that due to his extreme fever and perspiration, Jack had to be given water on several hour basis, which she had been doing for the first four days… _Oh._ Bearing in mind Jack's assumed mend, she had not really brought him a single mug of water that day, had she? Elizabeth felt her eyes widen at the realization that Jack, in his current state, was shamefully being unattended and doctor had mentioned that he wouldn't be waking up in a week and… Was he awake that soon only because he could not suffer the thirst anymore?

"R-Right, I will go and fetch you some water right now-" she stammered out while eyeing Jack with dreadful cautiousness, afraid that he would pass out again.

A silent "Thank ye" and one weak slanted smirk spurred Elizabeth on and with another quick glance at those dark sparkling orbs, she turned around and left to the kitchen.

Just as she closed the door, Elizabeth had to put all of her efforts into staying upright, as her body lost tension that had built inside her during the last minute. Apparently, nothing had changed between her and Jack Sparrow ever since their first encounter. He just could not let her be herself,_ herself_ meaning a rational, elegant and self-contained woman. Around Jack, rational would become audacious, elegant – tomboyish, and as for self-containment… Well, all pirates craved for adventures and were terribly impulsive, and such would she also become. In fact, during the last five days, the main matter that occupied her mind was unsolvable analysis of herself, of her needs and her dreams, of her demeanour and attitude, both of which kept changing whenever Jack Sparrow was concerned.

Sighing for what seemed to be a hundredth time that day, Elizabeth finally got to the kitchen and poured some water from a pitcher to a nice yellowish mug which had already become Jack's. The young woman decided not to dwell on any thoughts and just go and have a laconic conversation with the pirate captain. They had not seen one another for three years, after all.

"Are you awake?" Elizabeth silently asked as she took a look at the room through half-opened door. Jack had not moved and was lying among a pile of pillows, his chest rising and falling slowly.

"Aye, though I might not be fer too long."

"I-I am sorry. Here is your water, Jack." Elizabeth uttered and flinched inwardly. Not much from her resolution to hold herself high.

Elizabeth adjusted the pillows so that Jack could get himself up a bit. Then she helped him take hold of the mug, embracing his calloused and still tarred hand with her own palms. The sensual contact might have gone unnoticed by Jack, who seemed to see nothing except for fresh, cool water in front of him, but the ability to finally touch man's, especially that particular pirate captain's hand was something Elizabeth had not realized she missed so much. She craved to hold it longer, much longer, to feel something stronger than her, not the rag or the dishes or her little son, which was male, yet weak and fragile. Not like a grown man. Not like Jack at all. _Or Will._

"Ah, water… I missed it. But rum more. Don't ye have some rum at yer lovely home, dear?" Jack interrupted her again uncontrollable thoughts _– thanks God he did_ – as he drank the water in one sip. Elizabeth huffed.

"You can barely keep your eyes open, yet you already want rum. Has not it already made you enough trouble, Jack?

Jack ostentatiouslywidened his eyes. "Rum? Trouble? No, no no no no. Rum never makes trouble. Rum makes man happy. An' women too, o' course. But women also makes trouble, while rum only makes happiness…"

"Rum is better than women in all senses, then?"

Jack managed a small, yet amused laugh. "Oh Lizzie, dear Lizzie. Absolutely not in _all _senses. I'm sure dear William knew it, too, or otherwise the boy would've ended up marryin' a bottle of rum…"

"_Not _funny, Jack." Elizabeth put on an offended face. Something stirred inside her all right, but she was confused as to whether she needed to get upset at the mention of her husband's name. On the one hand, he _was _her husband and he would return to her, so she did not have to act as a widow and grieve over him, but on the other one, she _was_ a widow, because Will was dead-

"Pardon me, dear, ol' habits die hard. Yet, William has died, so I should also stop-"

"Jack! Yes, you most certainly should!" _Because I do not know if I want to weep or laugh anymore._

"Aye aye, I'm done." Amusement was also gone from Jack's voice and his eyes became more serious. "So how have ye been all this time, all alone?"

_He does not know yet… _Yes, Jack did not know about little William, who was the only human solace Elizabeth knew for the past several years. Telling Jack about her and Will's son was hard somehow, though it had to be told.

"I have a son, Jack. He's two now." As the words left her mouth, she saw a naked surprise overwhelming Jack's face, and continued, "His name is William, just like his father's."

Her interlocutor did not even bother to hide his astonishment, or close his open mouth, for that matter. Elizabeth was also puzzled, as she always saw her and Will's child coming after their wedding, so why could not Jack? It was only normal for the wedded to have children, so why did Jack now look not only deeply surprised, but also hurt? Elizabeth was not certain if what flashed in his eyes for a moment was sadness, but it was soon obvious that initial wonder was replaced with something akin to spite.

"Oh, so the young blacksmith didn't waste his lovely one day in ten years with ye in th' island, did he?"

Elizabeth was not sure if she heard it right, if Jack really had just said what he said; if he really was able to look at her with such fierce eyes! She did not do anything to upset him, on the contrary, she had helped him so much!

"Wha-What do you mean?"

"I mean what I say, darlin'. Despite the terrible incomprehensible fact that he left ye, he even imprisoned ye with some child who'll most certainly not allow ye to live a nice life that a lass like ye deserves."

Elizabeth knew she should focus on allof Jack's words and once she would finish focusing on _all _of his words, she should definitely slap him hard, _very_ hard for being terribly unreasonable in his delirium… Yet his _last few _words kept clinging to her mind.

_A life I deserve. _Was not she thinking of it quite much lately… Even too much? Yes, she was, but Elizabeth forced those thoughts aside and glared at Jack, who, by the way, was glaring at her too.

"How can you say all this? That he _left _me? He had no choice and you know it, for it was _you _who made him stab the heart!.." Shouting at first, Elizabeth almost whispered the last part of the sentence. And added as an afterthought, "Which was really the only option…"

Jack raised an eyebrow, though he seemed to do it against his own will. "Life be quite naughty sometimes, eh? It seems to offer us a variery of options, or paths so to say, yet when ye really, very want to do somethin'… ye open yer eyes and see there's nothing in front of ye but one wretched option… An' ye have to take th' offering, because when ye look back, ye see… there's no way back anymore."

Elizabeth widened her eyes, then they narrowed, then widened again, reflecting the change of emotions she experienced. She was angry with him, but as he talked, her anger was replaced by astonishment, which then turned to surprised reverie, pondering and finally to… anger again. Elizabeth narrowed her brown eyes.

"Here Jack Sparrow takes up philosophizing when just a moment ago he made no sense. Still experiencing the after effects of the Locker?" she regretted biting him like that when the words had already flown out of her mouth.

Fortunately for Elizabeth, Jack was too occupied intently studying her face with that glare of his and did not seemed to take much offence… or more… any more…

"Cap'n Jack Sparrow is Cap'n Jack Sparrow, darlin'. No bloody place, namely the Locker, can change me." _Except for yer presence. Bugger it._

"Then you _are _mad, by nature."

"Oh didn't ye know?" he managed a strained smile. Or rather a lift of his mouth corner.

"I did know that… Yet I did not think you would just ignore your knowledge of what had happened and say things like that!"

"Thinks like what?"

"Thinks like… Will leaving me… Or me being _imprisoned _by my own child!" She almost choked on the word.

"But isn't it what it is? What it really feels like?"

Elizabeth shot Jack a murderous glare, yet inwardly she felt a tide of disappointment overwhelming her. _He means it_...

"Men… you do not know what it feels to be a mother. You cannot feel it!"

"An' yet I know what it feels to be a _pirate_." Jack pursed his lips, as he could not help but remember the last time he called Elizabeth like that.

_I'm not sorry._

"Even pirates care for their family, Jack." Elizabeth's words brought Jack back to the present, which… was not really pleasing also.

"Pirates care for freedom, darlin'."

"Well then the Pirate King herself must be different from all the pirates, as I put my beloved people before freedom!"

"Or, before yer needs an' wantings."

"I want to be able to wait for Will!" Elizabeth blurted out, only after a moment seeing a glimpse of some emotion flashing in Jack's eyes – irony, probably? – and his lips curving into a sneering smirk.

To be _able _to wait for Will?.. Had she really said it?

"Forgive me if I be wrong, - no, I don't need yer forgivin' after all–" He added, though momentarily cringed at the hurt expression on Elizabeth's face, "but that sounds more like a burden t' me."

"Still, it is of no concern to you!"

"Still,ye'd give _much_ to be able to not be able to wait for a decade for yer beloved."

Elizabeth almost felt herself nodding at Jack's words, but then he added, "Though I still don't see why that would be worth it, as he bloody left you, before, o' course, impregnating ye lovely self with his – dead man's, actually – child-"

Now her eyes widened with fury.

"H-How could you? How can you say that, you bloody pirate!-"

"That is precisely the reason why I can say all I want, darlin', and that is because _I am _a bloody pirate!"

"But you cannot say a thing against Will, he is a good man!"

"I thought you said _I_ was a good man." Jack countered, though remained spiteful.

"Well he is much better than you!"

"Don't make me laugh, dear, not until I mend more. Yer beloved is just as bloody a pirate as I am, if not worse. And he have not charm. Aan' he's dead. And ye won't see 'im-" _for a bloody long time_, he would have said, if Elizabeth had not provided him with the strongest and most hurtful slap he had ever received, which had at least the effect on him that Elizabeth wanted – Jack immediately fell silent and concentrated his amazed look at her.

"Enough, Jack. Enough!" she yelled with tears in her eyes, tears she did not want to show up, but had no control over. "And that is how you show your gratitude to me, huh? I might as well do without it, then! You are angry because _you are _a bad pirate, the worst captain, who is not even able to keep his ship! And you tell that Black Pearl is your love, when you cannot even keep her safe! I know you blame me and Will for losing her, but for God's sake, Jack… For once, look at _your_ numerous vices!.."

And with that, Elizabeth stormed out of the room, all very angry and intensely sad. She knew she told the truth, Jack had to be told the truth about his insufferable personality, but she was also sure that there was more to his current attitude than just concern for the Black Pearl. His illness, maybe, or his exhaustion… Anyway, she would go pick young William up from his crib and go take a small walk to clear her mind from this madness. Meanwhile, Jack was hissing at the pain in his arm caused by throwing a pillow at the door right after Elizabeth left. He was angry at her all right (she was talking bloody nonsense! _She _had helped him so much? As Jack recalled, it was him who had bloody saved her life for... several times!), but then, he was even more annoyed with himself for getting so angry and insulting her so much. Maybe he should not have pushed Will's subject too much... Jack's behaviour was not like him at all. Or was it what that blood poisoning was like?

_Bloody blood poisoning._

He would not have got it if not for Elizabeth. Or Gibbs. Or them both. He did _not _want to come here in the first place!

_Bloody, treacherous, BLOODY lass! I'll strangle Gibbs with me own hands fer telling us to bloody find her._


End file.
